


AUs I wish I had more time for

by liddie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Humor, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Kinks, M/M, Multi, Shameless Smut, Vampire!Shiro, cop!shiro, kinda but not really?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-03 03:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17276012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liddie/pseuds/liddie
Summary: A collection of small stories set in different AUs with multiple pairings. I'll title each chapter with the pairing and AU, and also if it contains nsfw content.





	1. shance - vampire!AU - knife

**Author's Note:**

> one of my goals for this year is to post more of what I write, even if it's just a part of something uncompleted! I also want to take writing prompts at some point, because that's a fun way to practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more of this AU can be found here: [one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16268678/chapters/38041934) | [two(nsfw)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16268678/chapters/38446523%22) | [three(nsfw)(shancelot)](http://kuroshiroganee.tumblr.com/post/180052543668%22) | [four(nsfw)](http://kuroshiroganee.tumblr.com/post/180875159043) |

The tremor in Lance's body shakes the tray he carries across the study, the fine porcelain cup and saucer rattling with each step. There's a fire in the hearth and the wing-backed chair in front of it casts a looming shadow across the floor, Lance becoming swallowed up in it the closer he gets.  
  
As quietly as he can Lance approaches the side of the chair, eyes fixed on the small table. All he has to do is set the tray down there and then he can retreat to a dark corner and hide until he's dismissed.  
  
An ornate clock on the wall calls out the hour in sudden strikes and Lance jolts, fear spiking as the contents of the teacup slosh over the rim. The dark liquid drips from the saucer and the pristine cloth napkin beside it becomes stained with the mess.  
  
Lance remembers the unfamiliar maid's soft warning before she had handed the tray over. Slowly he lifts his head.  
  
The vampire sprawled out in the chair is watching him, the deep red of his eyes glowing in the low light. The ruffed shirt he wears is unbuttoned, showing off the hard plains of his chest and lower.  
  
With shaking hands Lance sets the tray on the table. "Your tea, m'lord," he mumbles, hands twisting in the hem of his silk tunic.  
  
The vampire Shirogane's eyes flick to the tea tray before returning to Lance. With a sweep of his arm he sends it crashing to the floor, the china breaking upon impact and the tea splashing across the hardwood.  
  
Lance flinches violently and Shirogane smiles.  
  
Holding out a hand he motions Lance closer. "Come here." When Lance remains frozen where he stands the smile slips off the vampire's face. "Lance."  
  
Jerking forward Lance closes the few steps between them. Cold fingers guide the trembling human down until he's sitting in Shirogane's lap, stiff as a corpse. "I've heard some interesting news," Shirogane offers, ignoring Lance's discomfort as he slides one hand down his spine. The sharp claws tipping Shirogane's fingers make the hair at the back of Lance's neck stand on end but he's unable to look away from the mess on the floor.  
  
"When your room was cleaned this morning," the vampire continues, cold dread settling heavy in the pit of Lance's stomach. "They found something interesting. Can you guess what it was?"  
  
The nails sliding up and down Lance's spine press harder, the thin silk beneath them splitting easily. Lance sits rigidly as his tunic falls off his shoulders.  
  
The vampire leans in close, lips brushing Lance's ear. "They found this." A shudder racks Lance's frame as Shirogane presents him with the same knife he had stashed under his mattress this morning. Sitting the knife in Lance's lap Shirogane hums, his hands returning to Lance's waist and gripping it tight, hard enough to bruise. The grip relaxes after mere seconds but there are already finger shaped marks forming on Lance's skin. "Naturally, I've had the entire kitchen staff rounded up so they can be disposed of."  
  
Horror crashes through Lance. All those innocent people killed because of his own selfish need for even the dullest weapon. Lance's head whips around and he stares at Shirogane. "You can't."  
  
"I can do anything I please," the vampire says airily, eyes glowing crimson. "Especially when--"    
  
Lance leans forward and presses their lips together. His fingers dig into the ruffles of Shirogane's shirt and hold tight, keeping the vampire close. Shirogane is cold and unresponsive, Lance's flicker of hope dampening at the refusal.  
  
His lips part and it's the tang of iron in his mouth that causes Shirogane to react. “Enough.” Cool hands push Lance back.  
  
Lance keeps his eyes low, lashes fanned out over his cheeks. Tears well in the corners of his eyes and his split lip bleeds freely down his chin. "Please, don't hurt them." His hand fists in Shirogane's shirt to control the tremble. "It was me, I took it. Don't punish them."  
  
"Should I punish you instead?" He lifts a hand to follow the trail of blood on Lance's face, wiping it away and sticking the digit into his mouth. "What sort of punishment would be fitting?"  
  
Remaining silent Lance sucks his lower lip into his mouth. The tang of blood makes his stomach knot and combined with the growing fear he wants to retch.  
  
Silence settles over them for a long while and it feels suffocating. After what feels like ages Shirogane shifts, sliding Lance off his lap and standing up. “Come.”  
  
Wrapping a hand around Lance's arm Shirogane leads him out of the room and toward the kitchens. Fear claws up Lance's chest and he grabs at Shirogane's hand. “Please, m'lord! Have mercy on them, it was all my fault.”  
  
As soon as they enter the kitchen the hustle and bustle comes to a complete stop, the cook and servants pausing their work to bow low with the arrival of their master.  
  
Tears track down Lance's cheeks and he hiccups a breath, immediately looking down, unable to look anyone in the face.  
  
“Mrs. Garrett,” Shirogane says smoothly. The head cook steps forward after a moment of hesitation.  
  
Turning to Lance Shirogane presses the knife into his hands. It's cold, a mirror of the dread settled in Lance's stomach. “Return it,” Shirogane instructs quietly, a hand on Lance's lower back urging him forward.  
  
Blinking through his tears Lance stares up at the vampire in shock. “B-but..”  
  
“Return the knife, Lance. And apologize.”  
  
Lance does. With shaking hands he hands the knife back to the confused cook, his eyes cast downward and his apology barely above a whisper. The bewildered cook accepts and Lance takes a step back, a solid hand settling onto his shoulder and making him flinch.  
  
“Apologies for the interruption.” Shirogane says, inclining his head before leading Lance out the kitchen.  
  
Slowly the knot of fear begins to loosen in Lance. He follows Shirogane through the hall, sniffing and trying to quell the hitching of his breath.  
  
Soon they are standing in the parlor and Shirogane turns to him, bringing a hand up and gently wiping the tears from Lance's cheeks. “Enough,” he murmurs. “I do not like when you lie to me.”  
  
The tender gesture and the softness in Shirogane's tone startle Lance, his eyes wide and fixed on the ruby ones that watch him.  
  
“You must not displease me again,” Shirogane says, wiping away one last tear that slips down Lance's cheek. “I will not be so lenient the next time you go against my wishes.”  
  
“Yes, m'lord,” Lance breathes, the warmth of the hand leaving his face. To his surprise Shirogane offers him a pristine white handkerchief, the edges trimmed in royal purple thread like vines. With shaking hands Lance accepts it.  
  
Watching Lance a moment longer Shirogane turns and begins walking away. “You are dismissed for the evening,” he calls without turning around.  
  
Lance watches the vampire go, rooted in place. When Shirogane disappears from sight Lance nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to make it back to his rooms.  
  
When he passes the study the broken china that was scattered across the floor is gone, the stain of tea wiped away as if it had never been there.  
  
As he lays in bed Lance wonders if he, too, will someday be a stain that has been cleared away without a trace.


	2. lancelot - fix-it AU - waking up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [canon divergent] Voltron escapes the quintessence field but Lotor ends up being trapped. Lance goes back for him, but time has passed and Lotor's body has been modified by the surrounding quintessence, leaving him with a blind eye and burns covering his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is part of [this canon-divergent AU](https://twitter.com/nsf_ko/status/1075223149262921731) that Ko and I made up to heal our souls. Here are some [headcanons](http://kuroshiroganee.tumblr.com/post/181281059148) that go along with it.

* * *

 

Sleep isn't something that Lance finds easily anymore, not since the quintessence field and everything that's happened after. Lance can count on one hand how many hours he's slept each day for the past three weeks, and he knows that he's worrying his friends.

But he can't just leave Lotor alone, not after they left him behind in the quintessence field. Just the thought of Lotor having to wake up alone makes Lance’s stomach twist in knots. Especially knowing that the healing pod was practically useless and Lotor will no doubt be experiencing pain.

So Lance only sleeps when he's forced to, when Coran quietly administers something that lulls him into a light state of unconscious. Coran then settles down in the second chair with a book, a silent reassurance that someone is constantly awake at Lotor’s bedside in case he wakes.

Lance’s dreams are still plagued by the memory of rocketing out of the quintessence field with one less person that ventured in. He dreams in vivid detail of the look on Lotor’s face when he was left behind, how his mouth had formed a single word.

A name. _His_ name.

Currently Lance is dozing in and out of consciousness without Coran’s help. With his back bent, Lance’s head is resting pillowed on a folded arm, his hand tucked carefully beneath Lotor’s prone one. In his line of sight is Lotor’s arm mottled with deep burns and the IV tubing that leads from his hand to the bag of saline fluid dripping steadily.

It disappears for a few seconds as Lance closes his eyes. It's been over forty-eight hours since he last slept and there are dark, permanent circles under his eyes. It's only a matter of time before Shiro or Allura says something to bring it up.

Drifting lazily in his thoughts Lance eventually nods off into much needed sleep.

It seems like varga have passed when he wakes. It's a slow process, his senses filtering back in as the heavy fog of sleep fades. He's warm and comfy, cheek pressed against soft blankets.

There are fingers running through his hair, slow and almost enough to lull him back to sleep. He sighs happily at the familiar feeling.

“Are you going to sleep forever?”

The accented voice is tired and rough from going such a long stretch without being used but Lance would recognize it anywhere. Jerking himself upright he hears a soft hiss of pain come from the man on the bed.

Lotor’s head is tilted back against the pillow, choppy hair covering his left eye and most of the side of his face. His hand rests on the bed where it has just fallen, wrist and the back of his hand burned a deep purple.

When he smiles lazily Lance’s eyes fill with tears. “I'm dreaming,” he whispers, tears sliding down his cheeks. “This isn't real.”

“It sure feels real,” Lotor winces, lifting a hand to his face. The tips of his fingers gently touch the rough texture of his skin and tremble. “Oh.”

“Lotor?” Lance whispers, still unsure if this vision will spiral into a nightmare.

The half-Galra turns to Lance and it suddenly becomes obvious that there was more damage than they initially thought. Set in the burned plain of Lotor’s face is one glowing eye, the color of liquid gold. It creates an uncanny resemblance to Zarkon.

“I…” Lotor’s fingertips feel across his cheek and up, along the ridge of circular scar marks to rest beneath his eye. “I cannot see from this,” he murmurs.

“You're beautiful,” Lance breathes, placing his hand on the bed. He bows his head. “I-I was worried.” His fingers grip the blankets tightly, tears trekking down Lance’s face and landing in drops on the bedding. “I thought you wouldn’t wake up.”

A warm hand cups Lance’s cheek and tilts it up. “I am here. You cannot rid yourself of me so easily,” Lotor reassures and Lance's face crumples.

With a soft sound Lance leans forward and buries his face in Lotor’s chest. Shudders rack his frame, tears smearing across the burned canvas of Lotor’s body. “I was so worried,”Lance repeats. “I never wanted to leave you there, it was an accident.”

“I know,” Lotor says simply. He must be in pain but he cards his fingers through Lance’s hair despite it. “You had no choice.”

“I could have tried harder. I wasn't strong enough. I--” Lance’s chest hitches unnaturally with the rough pace of his breathing. He bites his lower lip so hard he nearly draws blood. “I'm so sorry.”

Wrapping his arms around Lance Lotor pulls him closer. “Enough,” he says, as sharp as he can muster. “Enough, Lance.”

Lotor’s arms are shaking around Lance and he pulls himself from self-deprecating thoughts enough to lean back. “You need to rest,” he mumbles, wiping a sleeve over his eyes. Lance makes to slip from the bed. “Gotta catch that beauty sleep.”

Lotor’s hand wraps weakly around his arm, fingers spasming. “And where do you think you're going?”

“To get Coran. He’ll want to run some tests, to make sure you're okay.” Lance sees something flicker across Lotor’s face and it tugs at his heart. He looks...afraid.

“I insist you stay,” Lotor says, sounding more like the arrogant haughty prince than he has in a while. It's tired, though. “The Altean can wait.”

His hand is shaking fiercely now, the tremor racing up his arm. The weakness that plagues him worries Lance but he nods, turning his hand to lace their fingers together “Yes, your highness,” Lance attempts a grin.

Lotor nods stiffly but when Lance crawls onto the bed beside him he relaxes complexity, a soft hiss of pain escaping. Lance shifts to tuck himself in against Lotor, careful of the burns.

With his head pillowed beside Lotor’s Lance watches the exhaustion settle over the half-Galra like a blanket. “Don't leave me alone,” Lance mumbles, barely audible.

Opening his eyes Lotor fixes his good one on Lance, the molten pool of gold glowing steadily. “I will not,” he whispers just as softly.

 


	3. shance - banana fish!AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame Ko for telling me about Banana Fish 😭✨ this AU is loosely based on parts of the anime!

* * *

 

“You're not giving us much,” Keith says, resting a hand on the table and leaning forward. “There has to be something else.”

Lance leans back in the chair with a frown. “I don't know what you want me to say.” His eyes flick to Keith. “That's all I know.”

With a sigh Keith looks over at Shiro. “He's withholding information. It's so obvious.”

“Maybe if you weren't so rough,” Lance pouts, jingling his bound wrists. They're red from the handcuffs Keith had slapped onto him and will probably bruise. “I came along willingly enough, you know.”

Rolling his eyes Keith pins Lance with a glare. “I'm pretty sure I read a report saying you sent three guys to the infirmary yesterday. Pardon me for not taking my chances.”

“I made it very clear that I don’t like being touched,” Lance shrugs, feigning innocence. “They should know what ‘no’ means, shouldn't they?”

Shiro sighs, gathering the papers from the table and slipping them back into the file. “Well, I guess we’re done here.” Passing the folder down to Keith Shiro looks at Lance. “You should be up for bail in a few days so please try to behave.”

“Why, Detective. I'm always on my best behavior.” Lance winks, lifting his hands and dropping the open handcuffs onto the table with a clatter.

Keith swears under his breath and snatches them up, clipping them back on his belt. “What the hell,” he mumbles under his breath, standing and grabbing the folder.

When Shiro gets up Lance rises to his feet as well. “Thank you for your cooperation,” Shiro says, offering a hand.

Instead of shaking it Lance steps in close, tucking himself against the detective and reaching up to cup the side of his face. He tilts Shiro’s head down the slightest bit and leans up, connecting their lips in a kiss that grows more heated when Lance presses his tongue into Shiro’s mouth.

Keith coughs to interrupt and Lance pulls back, letting his hand drop onto Shiro’s shoulder briefly while keeping his eyes fixed on Shiro's. “See you around, Darling,” Lance grins, sliding his hand down Shiro’s arm before reaching back to cup his ass. “Bye bye,” he singsongs while squeezing briefly, smirking as he walks away.

“What the hell was that?” Keith sputters, furious on Shiro’s behalf. “The nerve of that asshole.”

Lifting a hand Shiro covers his mouth, trying to will away the flush on his cheeks. He's a grown man, after all. It's not like that was his first kiss.

Upon seeing him Keith slides a hand down his face. “Are you—fuck. You know what? Let's just get out of here.” He grabs Shiro’s arm and leads him toward the visitor exit.

As Keith rants and raves about Lance wasting their time with his games Shiro excuses himself to the washroom while Keith signs them out. Once alone Shiro spits out the small plastic capsule Lance and pushed into his mouth, snapping it open and finding the tiny scroll rolled inside.

It gives a name and address, one that makes no sense to Shiro. But he tucks the note away and flushes the broken capsule down the toilet.

_Lotor - 48 Gemini Avenue_


	4. lancelot - modern AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a short christmas-ish story with modern lancelot, but I never got around to finishing it or actually putting it together at all...oops! but I do enjoy rich businessman Lotor and fun easygoing Lance so I didn't want to scrap it completely.

* * *

Steam fogs the mirrors in the spacious bathroom, the golden faucets and knobs dulled with the perspiration. A pair of plush towels hang beside the tub ready to be used, two sets of clothes piled on the tiled floor.

“The office was in complete disarray, it was like the manager couldn't keep up with the incoming workload,” Lotor scoffs, lifting his hands from the water. Soap bubbles are piled upon his palms, water sliding through his fingers.

Lance grabs a slim bottle from the ledge built into the wall. Flipping the cap open he pours a good amount of expensive shampoo into his hand and sets the bottle aside. “Did you find out why?”

Warm fingers card through Lotor’s long hair, bringing the soap to a lather. “I fired him,” he says offhandedly.

The comment has Lance rolling his eyes. He scratches along Lotor’s scalp, bubbles frothing between his fingers. “You didn't have to be so extreme.” Lance drags his fingers away from Lotor’s head, pulling shampoo through the silky strands.

Turning his head Lotor gives Lance a look over his shoulder. “What was I supposed to do, give him a slap on the wrist?”

Gathering the long white hair up Lance arranges it on top of Lotor’s head. “You could have at least talked to him. It's kinda heartless to fire someone two weeks before Christmas, you know?”

When Lotor turns in the tub water sloshes over the rim with the movement. He raises an eyebrow at Lance. “Why should the time of year affect my reasoning to fire someone based on their poor performance?”

Reaching out Lance slaps his soapy hands on Lotor’s cheeks, squishing them so his lips form a duck face. “What if he has a family that's counting on him? Or if he still has presents to buy for his kids?” He shakes Lotor’s head a bit, his eyes widening. “What if he was going to propose but now that he doesn't have a job he's worried he’ll only be a burden on his partner? And why would his partner want to be with someone like that at all?”

Warm hands lift from the water to encircle Lance's wrists. “Lance,” Lotor says, pulling soapy hands away from his face. “You're projecting.”

Lance scoffs in a very unconvincing way, turning Lotor back around. “I'm not projecting! It's a hypothetical situation.” He scoots back a little until he bumps against the edge of the tub, hands on Lotor’s shoulders to lean him back. “Lay back and I'll rinse you.”

After a moment of internal debate Lotor reclines, letting Lance rinse the shampoo from his hair. The gentle scratch of his fingers has Lotor relaxing, eyes closed as he enjoys the soft treatment. Lance begins humming, threading his fingers through silky strands.

“All done,” Lance murmurs, dropping a kiss on Lotor’s brow before leaning back.

Straightening himself Lotor turns to face Lance, water spilling over the rim of the tub although he pays it no mind. Lance looks up from the bubbles and gives his boyfriend a smile.

Leaning in Lotor kisses Lance, lifting a hand to cup the side of his face. He slides his thumb along Lance's cheek. “I am more than happy with you as you are,” Lotor says softly. “I would not lie about that.”

Lance leans in and presses their lips together once more, his hand finding Lotor’s beneath the water and lacing their fingers. When he pulls back his cheeks are flushed but he's smiling as he squeezes Lotor’s hand.

“So,” Lance begins, shifting in the water to sit in Lotor’s lap. His ankles lock loosely at the small of Lotor’s back and he loops his hands behind the other man's neck. “You'll rehire that manager? Maybe assign him some more help?”

Warm arms settle around Lance’s hips. “You're not going to let this go, are you?” His fingers trail up and down Lance’s spine.

Lance shakes his head, toes tapping a rhythm against Lotor’s backside. He gives the older man a look, tilting his head to the side and curling his fingers in Lotor’s hair.

“Fine,” Lotor sighs dramatically and Lance leans in to kiss his cheek. “You're making me soft,” he accuses.

“Oh?” Lance rocks his hips and grins. “I don't know about that.”

Lotor catches Lance’s lips in a kiss, rubbing warm fingers against his lower back and feeling him slump forward with a smile against his lips.

 

* * *

 

“Zethrid,” Lance says in greeting as he steps through the revolving door. “Your biceps are looking extra ripped today,” he winks. The tall, muscular woman who guards the door nods to him in return, flashing a grin.

Lance walks to the reception desk and leans his arms on the aged wood, putting on the most charming smile he can. “Axca, love,” he says with a flutter of his lashes. “Can you pencil me in for an emergency meeting? In say, five minutes?”

Dark eyes lift from the calendar spread across the desk. Axca raises a slim brow. “What's the emergency?”

“He misses his boyfriend,” a bubbly voice says. Lance grins when a young woman bounces beside him, nudging up against his shoulder.

“Exactly,” Lance says with a smile. “And I've got a bone to pick with him.”

“You still haven't gone downtown yet?” Ezor loops an arm around Lance’s shoulders when he shakes his head. “Axca, I'm taking him up. We both know Lotor could use a little break.” She and Lance look at the other woman with puppy eyes.

With a soft sigh Axca nods. “Go on, then.”

“Thanks, Axca.” Lance blows her a kiss before Ezor leads him toward the elevator bank, chatting the entire way.  


* * *

 

Ezor pokes her head in the doorway and grins. “Sir? Your sudden special meeting is here.”

Frowning, Lotor looks up. “My what?”

Lance is all but shoved into the office. His arms pinwheel but he rights himself quickly, turning to Lotor with a smile. “Hey.”

Lotor relaxes back against his chair. “Lance,” he beckons him forward with a soft smile. “Was I supposed to be expecting you?” He glances towards the calendar full of appointments on the desk.

“Nope, I'm an unexpected surprise.” Walking across the room Lance leans in for a quick kiss, looking at the stacks of paperwork on the desk. “Rough day?”

The smile is wry. “I've had better.”

Humming softly Lance sits himself on the arm of Lotor’s chair, flopping back into his lap. The older man is prepared for this and catches Lance easily, shifting him a little to free up his arm.

He grabs a pen and glances at the pages that still need his signature for approval.

“I was thinking,” Lance begins after a while of comfortable silence, sprawling in Lotor’s lap and waving his feet in the air over the arm of the chair. “That you could take me on a date tonight.”

Lotor replies without looking up from the documents he's signing. “And why would I do that?”

Lance hums thoughtfully. “Because you never take me on dates anymore.”

Lotor looks up at Lance and raises an eyebrow. “You know I've been busy.”

“I do, and you know I love how hard working you are.” Swinging his legs down Lance stands, turning to sit on the edge of Lotor’s desk. “But babe, Christmas is only a week away.” He lifts a hand to tick off a list on his fingers. “We haven't gotten any shopping done, you promised you'd take me to the Christmas market downtown and we haven't gone yet, and I just want to do cliche Christmassy couple things like go look at lights and kiss under the mistletoe. Is that so much to ask?”

“Lance.” Lotor sets down his pen and rubs at the  bridge of his nose. “This merger has been absolute hell and you know that as acting regional manager, I-”

“Blah blah blah,” Lance cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “That's businessman Lotor talking. I'm taking to _boyfriend_ Lotor.”

Lotor frowns. “I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Darling. But they are one in the same. And right now I don't really have time for this.”

“C’mon, Lotor. You promised we could-”

“Must you act so childish about this?” Lotor snaps and Lance finches back. “This is not the time. If you wish to go to the market you can go by yourself or with your friends. Here,” he says, pulling out a sleek black credit card and handing it to Lance. “Buy whatever you'd like.”

Lance is silent and Lotor picks up his pen once more, agitation a visible line across his stiff shoulders. Standing from the desk Lance places the credit card down onto the solid oak and takes a step away. “You're right,” he says softly and when Lotor glances up the look on Lance's face makes him pause. Tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes but he forces a smile despite them. “Sorry to bother you at work.”

Stepping back Lance turns and heads for the door, ignoring Lotor when he calls out his name. The door clicks shut without a second glance and Lotor drops the pen, leaning back in the chair and rubbing at his eyes. “Fuck.”

 

\----- ----- ----- ----- -----

 

When he gets home the house is dark and quiet. The unlit tree stands in the window like a shadow and Lotor stares at the meager amount of ornaments he and Lance had decorated it with together. They were supposed to go shopping for more two weeks ago but Lotor has ended up stuck at work. Rescheduling hadn't seemed like a priority.

There's a note from Lance on the counter telling him not to wait up and for the first time in four months Lotor wakes the next morning alone, the bed beside him cold.

\----- ----- ----- ----- -----

 

Lance eases the door open, slipping off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket. The tree is unlit, looking almost dull in the morning light.

Passing by it Lance heads into the bedroom and grabs a set of clothes. Humming to himself he slides a hand through his matted hair, hoping that one night without his skincare routine won't cause any lasting damage.

Lance sings to himself as he heads into the bathroom. _“There's a tree in the Grand hotel, one in the park as well. The sturdy kind that doesn't mind the snow.”_ Setting his bundle of clothing down on the countertop Lance goes to start the shower. Water rains down from the ceiling and Lance wanders to the mirror, hands prodding his cheeks and chin. “So far so good,” he murmurs, tugging his shirt up and off.

_“And the thing that will make them ring is the carol that you sing, right within your heart.”_ Kicking off his pants and underwear Lance gathers the clothing up and dumps it into the laundry basket.

He tests the water with a hand and steps beneath the hot rain of it, his hair becoming soaked within seconds. First thing first Lance reaches for the bottle of face wash and lathers it up, taking his time as he applies it to his face and neck. He hums bits of different Christmas carols as he washes his hair and body, the hot water doing wonders for his skin.

His singing dies off when hands settle on his hips, lips pressing to the sweet spot just beneath his ear. Lance leans back against Lotor’s chest. “I thought you'd be at work.”

“Something more important has been brought to my attention.” Sliding his hands up Lotor massages Lance’s shoulders. “I've been remiss in my duties as a boyfriend.”

Lance pulls away. “They shouldn't be _duties_ ,” he mumbles, grabbing a sponge. He lets the water soak into it before giving a squeeze. It slips from his fingers and drops to the tiled floor. “And you've been busy. I shouldn't have bothered you about it. Just forget I-”

“Lance.” Stepping in close Lotor slides his hands down Lance’s shoulders, past his elbows and along his wrists until he can thread their fingers together. Bringing their arms up he hugs Lance, the water warm pouring over their skin. “I was out of line yesterday. I've hurt you with not only what I said, but also with my negligence.” He kisses Lance’s neck, resting his forehead on a shoulder. “I am sorry.”

Unable to help himself Lance smiles, hugging Lotor’s arms around himself a bit tighter. “Thank you.” Tilting his head he kisses Lotor’s temple. “As much as I'd like to stay like this, the water bill is going to be astronomical and you're late for work.”

Lifting his head Lotor untangles one of his hands and slides it beneath Lance’s chin, tilting it up. He kisses Lance slowly, the younger man turning so he can wrap his arms around Lotor’s neck. Lotor’s rest warm around Lance’s middle.

Pulling back Lotor taps his fingers along Lance’s lower back. “I've taken the rest of the month off.”

Lance’s eyes widen and he slides his fingers down to Lotor’s chest, pressing against it as he walks them a few steps out of the spray of water. “You-you can't just leave work for so long!” He laughs.

“I can and I have.” Lotor’s hands drop to Lance’s thighs and he lifts the younger man up, those long legs wrapping around his hips. “Think of all the dates we can go on.”

A laugh bubbles from Lance’s mouth and he tangles his hands in Lotor’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss. “You're crazy,” he laughs, pulling back a bit to nuzzle his nose against Lotor’s.

Lotor grins as he steps from the shower, carrying Lance over to the sink and setting him on the countertop. He stays between Lance’s legs, ignoring the water that drips off the two of them.

 


	5. shance - pretty woman AU (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an unfinished piano scene from the pretty woman(ish) AU I'll never write

* * *

 

Nimble fingers open the soft robe, exposing Lance’s chest and the lace underwear stretched across his hips.

Blue eyes flick down to Shiro’s lips, then back to his eyes. Lance’s tongue slides wetly across his bottom lip. “See something you like?”

“Everything.” Dipping to the side Shiro slides an arm beneath Lance’s knees and lifts him in a bridal hold, Lance’s hand resting lightly on his shoulder. Lance simply watches him, humming when Shiro sets him to sit on top of the piano.

A few keys sound in the silence of the room, a broken tune.

Reaching up Shiro cups Lance's cheek, watching the young man lean into the warmed metal of it. When Lance tries to suck his thumb between his lips Shiro pulls it away. “You are,” he pauses briefly. “Extraordinary.”

He leans in for a kiss but Lance tilts his head away, using Shiro’s pause to move in and kiss his neck. “I'm nobody,” Lance mumbles. He sits back up when hands slide over his thighs and spread them, Shiro stepping in the space between.

His hands settle on Lance’s hips, then down over his ass. “You could be _everything_.”

Hooking a hand behind Shiro’s neck Lance grins, letting it slide down over his shoulder and then his chest as Lance leans away.

His back meets the polished wood of the piano top, the chill against heated skin sending a shiver down his spine. He arches beautifully and Shiro leans in like Icarus to the sun, hands sliding beneath Lance and spanning across the small of his back.

“You deserve the world,” Shiro murmurs, leaning up to kiss the column of Lance’s neck. His lips trail down, passing perfect collarbones littered with his own bites and over the small bars pierced through peaked nipples, pausing his descent to kiss and suck them gently. He follows the line of Lance's chest down and swirls his tongue around the younger man’s navel, dipping the tip into the shallow groove and then sucking the sweet skin.

“Shiro,” Lance moans softly, hands sliding into soft hair. Expert fingers push the robe aside completely and Lance gasps when blunt teeth nip his hip bone, his legs falling open without shame. “Please.”

“I'd give you anything,” Shiro whispers against his skin like a promise. “Whatever you want, it's yours.” Lips brush the lace waistband of Lance’s panties.

“I want _you_ ,” Lance breathes the reply, the fingers in Shiro’s hair guiding him to look up.

Keeping dark eyes fixed on Lance Shiro drags his lips over the younger man’s clothed cock, mouthing at the textured fabric and letting his hot breath stir Lance to full arousal. He nuzzles the bulge, licking wet over the lace and hearing Lance moan beneath the attention.

When the rosy tip peeks from beneath the waistband Shiro laves his tongue over it, teasing before he takes it between his lips and suckles gently.

Lance’s heel slips against the keys and the thrum resonates through his entire body. He shudders beneath Shiro's attention.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://kuroshiroganee.tumblr.com/) and [twitter!](https://twitter.com/Kuroshiroganee)


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